Concerning Crimson Stars and Distant Skies
by Elegy Eirwyn
Summary: The travelers arrive in M' Alister, a twisted world that has been magically sealed. In their struggle to leave the closed world, Kurogane, Fai, and Syaoran face insanity, revenge and a sinister plan that will shake their existences.
1. Prolouge

_Disclaimer: I do not own Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicles or any of the characters associated with it._

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><p>Prolouge<p>

_Oh god oh god oh god oh god _

_ No_

_ don't TOUCH me _please_ don't TOUCH me –_

Something thin and silver glints from the tangle of his long fingers. I can't raise my head far enough to discern whether it is a dagger or a razor. For a brief second, the weapon's flat edge catches one of the yellow lights in the corner of the room

_ and it throws me back into Yuui and Celes, as I see my magic shatter thick ice in the golden glimmer of an arctic sunrise_

before it descends deeply into my upturned palm

_ millions and millions of shards wink at the frozen sun and scatter across the snow like raw diamonds_

but I'm not screaming

_ No, not diamonds, but tiny deadly swords._

Even as it plunges into my other palm, and I stay silent _because at least it isn't _him _touching me._

_ It's fine everything is fine because only that icy metal is touching me and this wouldn't be the first time that ice has caused me to bleed. _

He has a blunt, stocky face – the face of a brute. The only thing (that I can see from this horizontal vantage) that differentiates him from a beast is his hard, hard slate eyes that promise both intelligence and cruelty.

He wrenches out the blade

_And the blood hisses magic as it hits the table_

With a quick jerk. His lips bunch like rope in the upper corner of his mouth in what I assume is a smile and he watches as

_No no NO!_

My skin

_ Why why why why why?_

_ This isn't supposed to happen anymore –_

Weaves itself back together again.

"So you still have the blood?"

_Words like heart attacks._

I would smile my most indulgent smile, I would lightly laugh and tell him, 'No, sir you're mistaken ~ it's just the magic!" I would lie better than I ever lied to Kurogane - better than I ever lied to myself – and grin prettily and maybe leave unchanged. But there is a rough cloth tied tightly around my greatest weapon and the only sounds I can manage are pathetic.

His top lip jerks upward

_I can see his teeth, his pointy blood-sucking canines_

in what must be his most indulgent smile and his black eyes

_like the earliest sunrise ghosting across mirrors of ice _

flash gold.

Two thunderous movements, and he is straddling my immobile form, still bearing his

_Fangs_

Teeth. I try to think of anything

_The restraints on my wrists bite like good metal_

Besides his looming face

_The ceiling is quite an ornate puzzle, with white wooden carvings and rich fabrics that billow like an afternoon storm_

And the fact that

_He is touching me ME and it feels worse that lightning, worse than magic, worse than having an eye ripped out…_

One of his hands is hovering above my chest, lightly outlining right where I'm sure my heart is _pounding like salty waves on crumbing limestone pillars. _He lets his fingers grow long and sharp, and slices the gag off my face, catching one of my cheeks and causing it to leak a tiny ribbon of

_How long has that stone pillar stood against the sea? Does it feel that with each ripping wave a little bit of itself is torn away until it is but a skeleton of its former self?_

I could scream and scream and yell for help but no one would hear. Silencing me wasn't really the reason for the gag in the first place, I'm sure. It was simply effective in causing fear and black helplessness.

_With each cold, wet, measured drag some of its essence is dragged away and scattered across millions and millions of tons of water. _

His eyes sink into a permanent gold

_Oh God isn't there anyone that can stop this madness -_

And I suddenly know exactly what he is going to do. He slowly dips his head down

_Slowly like a continental slab drifting across glowing pure lava_

And smashes his teeth into my neck.

_A familiar pain, something that has coursed through my veins before – this poison is not new. My body may be writhing and I may be gasping for air, but this can't make me scream. This is much too ordinary._

This is a fairly inelegant way to spread the virus that is vampirism. It is much more bestial than simple blood drinking –

_but it would be a lie to say that we aren't beasts_

- But I suppose it might be more effective.

My veins sting and my eyes fill with tears as they streak gold for the first time since I was given a left eye. I must be thrashing a little, but not too entirely much because there isn't much left to change. Perhaps this is all, and this is over now and someone will come to let me go home and

_NO._

_How long until that limestone pillar comes down crashing into the sea?_

I am SCREAMING this time as his long sharp fingers dig into my chest

_out of the five holes little blood streams flow _

and clamp around my

_thump-thump-thump—thump-thump-THUMPTHUMPTHUMP_

heart.

_and become fast moving crimson rivers that merge into a delta at the base of his palm._

He tugs at the convulsing organ

_THUMPTHUMPTHUMPthump_

_SCREAM_

_Thumpthump__

And then rips it free from my chest

_The delta becomes a wide wide sea across my chest_

It sputters and dies in his hand, but I am still alive and attentively watching him through a thick curtain of tears and heavy screams. Already my body is rebuilding me a heart, but this one will be different.

It will be the heart of a pure-blood vampire. There will be no rescue from this transformation.

My body needs proteins and fiber to build a new heart, so it begins to tear at the little fat that I have, and then the muscle, and it steals my blood and bone tissue in its assembly process. I can only shriek and thrash and scream and cry while my body is tearing itself apart, just to recreate a black pounding _monster_ in my chest.

_The crimson tide begins to roll off my torso. If Kurogane were here, I would tell him to look at the strange view of the thick red sea. _

_But Kurogane isn't here._

_And I've never seen the sea. _


	2. I Perhaps Something to Worry About

I. Perhaps Something to Worry About

There was something dreadfully wrong with this crossing. While he wasn't sure whether the others were sensitive enough to tell, during the crossing Fai could feel the magic being twisted in all the wrong directions. He was hoping that it was due to the quirks of the world they had just left and not the world they were going to…but he had grave doubts.

The cross had begun normally. Mokona's magic had swept them up with its usual suppressive warmth. Fai's own icy magic had stung in protest to the heat. Kurogane had grumbled something unintelligible about 'damn flashy magic things' and Syaoran had looked around nervously.

They were suspended between dimensions for only a fraction of a second while Mokona's magic picked their next location. Although he could understand little of it, Fai could feel waves of energy resonate once the decision was made, and was prepared to be throttled through time and space.

But as they burst forward, propelled by Yuuko's still powerful creation, they became _snagged _on something. Or maybe they were caught by something, Fai mused. But some strong, fiery magic had plucked them from limbo and thrown them into this exceedingly twisted world.

Fai had landed on his back with a dull thud. Whatever he had landed on was very hard and fairly wet. He already felt a headache surfacing, one that always came as his immense magic adjusted to a new environment. He didn't like the prickly and untamed throb that was already pounding on his temples.

_ Usually, the headaches feel like blizzards of crystal snow driving through my brain. The sting is always frigid and numbing. Even after the pain has dulled, I always remain frozen. But here the headache is very different – more like torrents of fiery needles. Each prick of magic is loaded with wild energy. It burns with shimmering heat and dangerous impatience. _

He jerked his eyes open only to be greeted with damp darkness. He laboriously pushed himself into a sitting position, feeling that the rough surface he landed on was either brick or cobblestone. Still unable to see anything, he was struck with a desire to yell loudly for Kurogane and Syaoran, but the overwhelming silence weighed down his tongue.

Finally after a few bloated seconds Fai heard a soft "mmphh" from off to his right. The sound was repeated with an edge of irritation. Then in an unmistakably gruff tone, "Uhh, what? Oh…sorry, Syaoran."

Fai released a soft breath and turned to face the voices coming from the black.

"Kurogane?"

Grunt.

"Did you land on Syaoran?"

Grunt.

"How about Mokona?"

"…no."

Fai tried to get to his feet

_Aghh! Is there lava behind my eyes?_

But promptly sank to his knees.

"You know," he said, perhaps a little sharply, "this would be much easier if you just used that nifty little light at the end of your arm –."

"Idiot," Kurogane grumbled, "and risk giving our position away?"

"I think," Fai started, trying to sound more lighthearted than he felt, "that we risk more by not being able to see anything."

Silence.

Fai struggled to stand again

_Oh god it's like fire everywhere, burning and singing_

And failed again.

It was still very quiet, until finally

"Mokona can see things."

So the creature was fine, Fai realized with relief.

"Fai?" It was Syaoran this time, his voice thickly coated with concern.

"It's just the magic," he nearly whispered. He was still unaccustomed to speaking about his own discomfort, even when _the magic around me is filled with lightning._

"The magic is different here. It's like fire."

Of course they wouldn't understand that. He didn't really know why he had said it. But even as he spoke, the pain receded slightly and he began to make out shapes.

They were in some sort of alley or tunnel. Kurogane was already standing, his back against one of the narrow walls and his crimson eyes dancing around in suspicion. At his feet was Syaoran. His nose was scrunched in annoyance, probably at Kurogane and the little white creature perched on his head.

Fai felt like laughing, but Kurogane's manifesting unease kept him quiet. Using the wall as support he slowly rose to his feet – glad that the smoldering headache remained at bay.

His vision continued to clear, but the surroundings remained dismal. It must be night, in the world that they were in. He blinked to keep the fire from taking his eyes and looked up.

_ The magic. _He blinked again. _I can see the magic._

Sometimes he could see magic when it wasn't being cast. It was beautiful - small glowing particles of energy that ran through and around everything. In its natural and unorganized state it danced like fireflies.

_There against the sky! That's a lot of magic._

Now, he could see the magic panned high above his head. It was woven tight in a primal pattern that seemed shockingly familiar. Twisting spirals and writhing arrows glowing bright with energy.

_I – no. This can't be. How could we have even landed here?_

"Kurogane!" Too loud. _But it won't matter if we are stuck here. _

"Quiet! We don't know -."

A beam of light flashed down from the far end of the alley. It was accompanied by deep, angry voices. In alarm, Kurogane hoisted Syaoran up by his collar and began to step backward. He bumped back into Fai, but then grabbed his arm and said sternly:

"I think we should leave. Now."

"I – we can't."

"I don't like it here."

"No, Kurogane, we can't. This world is -."

The beam was getting closer, faster. They couldn't see the source of the voices around the bright light.

"Maybe they can help us, Kurogane. We should ask them."

A sharp band sounded, and Kurogane felt something bury itself in the wall, only a few feet away from his head.

Already he was running, nearly dragging Fai. Syaoran was close behind, clutching Mokona to his chest. Fai wrenched his arm back from the ninja and took the lead.

More bangs resounded behind them. Fai saw a turn to his left and immediately took it, trusting Kurogane and Syaoran to follow him. It led them into another twisting alley, but this one was littered with crates and ripe garbage.

He kept throwing his legs in front of him, knowing that they were still being pursued. The walls were getting narrower, but up ahead he could see some sort of opening. He hoped it was a road or a house or someplace to hide that wasn't this awful maze.

His heart was thrumming violently and he continued breaking through the darkness. He could hear shouting behind him as the dangerous strangers finally turned into their alley.

They were almost there, at wherever it was that would take them from this particular street, when Fai saw it. He almost missed it because it was so thin and _magically concealed?_

He barely had time to leap above the tiny glistening wire that was stretched across their path about two feet above the ground. He threw himself around, almost falling over from the loss in momentum. There was Syaoran, yelling as his foot was mangled in the wire. And there was Kurogane, his eyes growing wide as he fell over the boy and heavily landed on his left arm.

The mechanical arm snapped off with a sickening pop. He grabbed for it with his right had, and turned to look at Syaoran. His eyebrows elevated when he saw the boy curled on the ground with his foot facing an unnatural direction.

Soon the pursuers would be at firing distance again. Fai threw his head about and saw a tall pile of crates. He quickly dragged Syaoran behind them, struggling with the weight. If he weren't in imminent danger, he would think happily about how much the boy had grown. Kurogane was stumbling behind him, his false arm still hanging out of his hand. As he approached, Fai gave him a quick shove and he tumbled to the ground.

Fai noticed that Kurogane was trying to stand up again. He pushed him back down with a foot to his chest and heartily shook his head. It wasn't often that he got to see the stoic man in such obvious confusion, and he would have enjoyed it if he wasn't in such a hurry.

All he could offer was a smile brighter than he felt, and then a quick wink. A bullet bounced off the ground close to his feet. With that as a signal, Fai ran.

Kurogane held his breath as the two dark pursuers followed Fai without a second look in his and Syaoran's direction.

"What is he doing?" Syaoran breathed.

Kurogane leaned against the harsh wall behind him and momentarily shut his eyes.

"Idiot."


	3. II Steel Waltzes and Frozen Lullabies

_Quickly before I would begin, I would like to thank ZirciX and superspecialawesome for their fantastic reviews, as I have not been able to thank them personally. Your continued support is fully appreciated! _

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><p>II. Steel Waltzes and Frozen Lullabies<p>

Kurogane's eyes shot back open when he heard Syaoran try to suppress a gasp. He saw the boy trying to slowly unwind the wire that had sunken into his flesh. His ankle already looked like the limb of an old balboa tree, wrinkled and swollen and foreign. The metal device was sharp enough to make it slick and warm.

The kid, Kurogane knew, would need _some _sort of attention. He probably couldn't even walk. But with this

_Goddamned useless abomination_

Mechanical arm draped like a curtain across his lap, Kurogane silently accepted that he was probably as, if not more _not that I would admit it _disabled than Syaoran.

The thing looked out of place in such a primal world. Its silver plating was lustrous enough to glimmer in the limited light. Sterling cords twisted around the shoulder and elbow like vines fusing with trees, or – that being a little too organic – like chains rusting into fences.

_Syaoran had stormed back to their cell-like unit, eyes a little wider and eyebrows a little lower. His mouth had flopped open in his attempt to suck in oxygen as he suppressed a little smile. Kurogane always worried Syaoran was smiling, especially when the princess wasn't around._

There, along the inside of the forearm was a thinly engraved serial number. 766543-D: a new, coveted, specialized model.

_His large tool bag looked especially heavy on his shoulders, and he carefully lowered it onto the ground instead of the usual toss-in-the-farthest-corner-from-me. Yes, Kurogane definitely had reasons to worry._

And down in the palm, barely discernable from the sheen of the metal was a high-intensity light. Up above at the end of the pointer finger was a small red circle, from which an industrial laser could be focused.

_Fai approached Kurogane's side, with his sleepy eyes, oil covered fingers and old, stained book (which was a rarity in this world) tucked beneath his elbow. As soon as he saw Syaoran his nose crinkled and the sleep ran from eyes. _

_ "Why didn't you wait until tomorrow?" he said urgently. It wasn't often that Fai said something urgently._

There was a small slit in the wrist, where a blade could retract in and out at the user's will. A tiny, paper-thin, devastating little blade that could hack through metal.

_The smile dropped off of Syaoran's face. "Argon left early today. He didn't even lock them up. How could I -."_

_ "A trap, Syaoran! They'll be looking for us by morning."_

_ Kurogane knew then what they were talking about. In three strides he covered the distance between he and the boy, and knelt on the ground next the soiled bag. Syaoran did nothing to stop them as he tugged slowly at the zipper to reveal that new, dangerous, illegal limb…_

_"I don't need a new one." He growled to hide the growing anxiousness in the depths of his stomach._

_ "Yes, you do," Fai was kneeling beside him now and carefully lifting up the arm, "this will be much more useful to you."_

_ More useful than his Piffle arm – his second Piffle arm, even. The first person in this world who saw his fake limb had asked him where he managed to find such an antique. And, of course, why he was wearing it. _

_ Fai shifted behind him, arm still in hand, and rested his apple chin on Kurogane's shoulder. Syaoran looked down at the two, face perhaps a little redder, and left the room in no small hurry._

_ Fai began to lightly hum something as his hand traversed around Kurogane and gripped the front of his shirt. He began to unbutton the garment, slightly struggling with his one free hand. Kurogane could only slouch into Fai's feather-light embrace, avoiding paralyzing nervousness by focusing on the tune that he was humming. _

_ It was something ancient and tragic, mellow and defeated and old and broken. He wondered how many times Fai had heard it when he was young._

_ With a cool rustle Fai slipped the shirt off Kurogane's back. He felt long, graceful fingers gently rest on the intersection between his hard skin and the harder metal of his left arm. They gave a sharp tug, and the arm came clattering off._

_ A new type of nervousness flooded his body. He was no longer worried about the hybrid humans that would come to look for their stolen property or the lasers they would use to carve out the steel door. This, to him, was much more appalling. Here he was, fully exposed and scarred and horribly vulnerable. He began to tremble, tremble, tremble and wonder what was in Fai's eyes as he saw the mangled flesh and awful absence. Most likely it was guilt, he concluded with horror, the same guilt that he thought he had eradicated in Nihon._

_ But Fai's eyes were not on the scar or the absence or the mangled flesh. He stopped his shaking to notice that both inhuman arms were on the ground now, and both of Fai's thin arms were wrapped tightly around him, barely able to connect. Fai had tucked his head deep into Kurogane's back and was still humming that mournful little song._

The appearance of a very industrial mechanical arm was ruined, however, by a ring of characters around the bicep. The characters were foreign to him, like the runes of some forgotten language. They glowed a soft purple and thrummed like a heartbeat.

_Fai was still kneeling behind him when he slipped the arm onto Kurogane's flesh. Almost immediately, the arm began to fuse with his skin just as it had with both arms from Piffle. But he could very quickly tell the difference. _

_ All very suddenly he felt like he had skin again, like he had pores and scars and little tiny hairs. And he could feel Fai's fingers ghosting over him as if they were handling something very fragile. _

_ "It runs on solar energy." Fai whispered softly into his ear._

_ "On what?"_

_ "The sun. It uses the sun to work."_

_ Ice flooded his new arm. He involuntarily jerked, unused to feeling temperature on the left side of his body. Fai remained firmly in place behind him, however, and Kurogane strained backwards to see what he was doing. _

_ Fai's eyelids were impossibly low, and a small, implacable smile hung from his cheekbones. He was surrounded by a pale purple aura, one that Kurogane had learned to associate with magic. And then he noticed that he too was engulfed in the frigid purple, and it was very softly branding his newest body part. _

_ "What is this for?" _

_ "What if," Fai began slowly, as if choosing his words with great care, "what if we land in a world with no sun?"_

_ "What is that supposed to mean?"_

_ "I would much rather it operates using my magic as its power source." Kurogane stayed silent and let moments stretch until they broke._

_ "The amount it uses is negligible. It will be safer that way. And don't worry, when I die, it will just return to using sun power again -."_

_ Kurogane turned around with such speed he had never used in his life. He grabbed the flabbergasted mage about the shoulders and stared fiercely into his wispy blue eyes. Then he pulled him close, closer with his mismatched limbs until he was sure the slight body between them was sore. _

_ "Don't you even think about leaving before me. About leaving me alone."_

_ Was he even breathing?_

_ "I won't let you."_

_ Very subtly, he began to feel Fai hug him back. _

_ And then Fai began to hum. _


	4. III With, of course, a Small Fee

III. With, of course, a Small Fee

Traversing the narrow alleyways was much easier for Fai without those three lovely burdens behind him. He was slender and quiet enough to confuse his pursuers, and with the headache slightly receding, he was able to avoid those little magical

_Potholes, tripwires, fake walls, non-existent paths, whizzing-sputtering-uncontrolled attack spells…_

gifts from the new world. But still, projectiles danced only slightly behind his whirling feet and the only real reason he didn't flirt with them was because Syaoran and Kurogane would need _him _to survive this world. To escape this world.

Once again, he dashed around another sharp corner and was presented with yet another twisting cobblestone path. His muscles began to ache. He had been running for _god knows how long _and still he could not shake off the ominous figures with more than simply ominous weapons.

He continued to fling forward, occasionally stepping out of the way of strategically placed obstacles. He was becoming less graceful – the _magical pressure _headache was starting to singe at the edges of his eyesight again. His gasps became jagged and he fought to suck in more of that

_Wet, organic, muddy and rotten_

Dismal oxygen from around him.

But there was something bitter and strong in the air in front of him – something that was very much not oxygen.

Fai had memories all around him, about his head and entwined in his power, but very few were _strong, _per say. But a few fragments, ones that he had tried to crush and after failure had tried to bury, remained hiding and waiting. And they would surface at the oddest times,

_As he walked barefoot on the snow, as he tasted a smooth mint tea, as he saw a particularly tall building _

Like right then. As he was firing through tiny roads, gasping and reeling in that all-too-familiar scent and being submerged in memory because right now that was more important than the thunder following him.

_He didn't really know how old he was. All those horrible years in the snow and ice and death could have easily been centuries. But this apparently didn't matter anymore, as Ashura had simply said with that solemn voice and that solemn smile that it was to be his fourteenth birthday and they were to commemorate it properly._

_ So at his master's request, Fai had appeared at the library doors early that morning. He knocked, and hearing no reply, he pushed open the heavy doors. _

_ Inside was Ashura, lounging on a couch with his hair spilling like midnight oil over the rich red upholstery. He held a delicate, long pipe to his lips, and was eyeing the smoke as it meekly danced by his face._

_ Fai had never seen such a thing, nor smelled it, and wasn't quite sure that he liked it. At the time, he was much too busy noticing how the air smelled like acid than to notice dark, small spatter stains on Ashura's sleeves. The little smoke sculptures in the air were much more intriguing._

The scent and that graceful dancing smoke was emitting from a small, wood covered manhole that Fai would not have been able to notice except for his immense magic. He tumbled to a halt, falling to his knees and tearing off strips of skin at his elbows Seeing that his pursuers had yet to turn into this particular street, he threw open the wood hatch and fell inside.

_ Dark dark dark and very smoky and very warm._

He rolled down a small number of stairs, perhaps a half fleet or more. When he reached the bottom, covered in fresh new bruises and abrasions, he laid still as if paralyzed by the silence.

_Thud thud bang thud HATE_

He heard the men pass by overhead and keep running.

A light – there was an orange light in the far right corner. It covered the reclined bodies in a molten glow. The heat dripped from the packed wooden walls and felt like lava riding the air. With the smoke of dozens of pipes rising and twisting, the room looked like the depths of a volcano.

None of the figures lying on various cots paid Fai any mind. However, one alert figure, sitting at an ancient desk that bore the orange lamp, flicked his eyes to the newcomer. Fai collected himself and stood, affixing his most charming smile and lowering his eyelids to suit the lazy mood. He walked closer the desk and to the man, allowing a swing to settle in his hips.

Unlike the rest of the room's occupants, this one looked well fed. He had no pipe, and the bitter taste in the air was less prevalent around him. He put a large hand through his long, dark hair as he watched Fai approach, and allowed a small, venomous smile to creep up on his wide jaw.

"You're new," he said as Fai finally stepped in front of his desk, "and judging by your obnoxious face, you most likely don't want opium."

_The man is frank. Almost worse than Kurogane…_

_ Kurogane. The man was disabled somewhere with an injured Syaoran and frightened Mokona. _

"How observant! And what do you think that I want?"

The question was honest, and he leaned across the table as he asked it.

"Most likely something that I don't have here." The man leaned back, and resumed smiling, "but perhaps I do. It depends on what you're willing to pay."

Then he grinned wide and snake-like. Then his eyes glittered and his irises became liquid gold.

_No more safety. Less hope. A little more fear. _

_ But it is better than the streets and the violent shadows._

"We need a place to stay. There are three of us."

Closed his eyes, hid the gold, pressed his _claws _to his temples.

"Where are the other two?"

"On the streets."

Folded the claws in his lap. Lifted is head. Smiled _bore his fangs _and spoke with a hiss.

"If we can begin now, I'll send people to go retrieve them."

"Of course."

_He wasn't smiling anymore? When had he forgotten to smile? _

"How can I know to trust you?"

"Prey to me is so much better living than dead. And these," he waved his hand around the room, "things have the most corrupted blood I've ever tasted. Bitter, like lemons."

Fai sighed. Audibly. "Very well."

"What should we tell them, to make them trust us?"

_They won't ever trust you._

"Tell them that Mommy is waiting."

Cackled, lifted his broad chin, twisted his cheek into a sneer.

"They'll be back within half the hour. If you would prefer, for your privacy-."

"I would prefer."

"There's another room behind me. You'll be much more comfortable there."

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><p><em>Thank you for reading! A review would mean the world to me, and possibly more. And I very much appreciate criticism. <em>

_Sincerely, _

_Elegy  
><em>


	5. IV Indigo Waves and Dyeing Blossoms

IV. Indigo Waves and Dyeing Blossoms

"Kid."

Syaoran looked up at Kurogane, his face like granite against the pain.

"I'm not a -."

"My arm."

_That arm that was hanging like a corpse out of Kurogane's homicidal fist._

Syaoran crawled closer to Kurogane and took the arm in his hands. From there, it became a routine

_That can proceed like orchestration even when the sky is heavy and the air is molten metal and Syaoran's leg was hacked and Mokona was silent and Fai was missing -_

Kurogane tugged his shirt over his head with his free hand and pressed it to the ground.

_No matter the weather, the location or the situation, Kurogane always insisted they fix it right there. His voice grew edgier and shorter as he – wait – begged? That they just fix it then._

Syaoran's hands were rough and clammy, although not cold – nothing could be cold in that stifling air.

_He would look up. Always up. Because whatever sappy star/moon/sunrise thing that was happening up there was probably better to look at than a face full of pity._

_ Here there was very little to see in the sky. No moon to speak of and only the barest hints of stars, so dark they appeared red against the black. _

"Oh thank god…"

_It was best when the arm snapped off at the rotator cuff. When that happened, it would only take a moment of fiddling and stargazing to snap the limb back into place. When the entire limb fell off, it required a bit more teeth-clenching, skin-ripping, scar-tearing and time._

And of all of those things listed, time was currently the least affordable. So it was with relief that Syaoran was able to slip metal back into metal and watch as Kurogane tested his fake fingers.

Kurogane flexed each digit carefully, he could almost image that he felt the bones clack together and the muscle beneath tanned skin stretch.

"Master would like to have that arm!" A small voice from the shadows.

Kurogane jolted. That tiny voice – directly in front of him – how had he not noticed?

"Why would he want that?" A giggle, shrill against the thick air.

Kurogane could make out two tiny figures only feet from his face. He could tell by the slim shoulders and silhouettes of hair that they were young girls – very familiar looking girls. Or perhaps not. Perhaps he was just getting all soft and missing Sakura.

"Maru? Moro?" Syaoran gasped.

Kurogane let his eyes widen a fraction.

"How did he know our names?"

"I don't know. We didn't tell them our names!" Another haunting giggle.

"These ones are interesting."

"Master will like these ones."

Kurogane suppressed a chill in his spine and flicked on the light in the palm of his hand.

Even though they were slighter, dirtier and more bruised than ever before, Maru and Moro were unmistakable amidst the waves of indigo and rose hair; however the impressive manes were uncharacteristically tangled. And their dark dresses – faded dresses that were at one point rich – barely clung to their thin shoulders.

_But their eyes glowed gold._

"What are you two doing here?" Syaoran asked while lurching forward.

Kurogane growled and latched a hand onto his shoulder to keep him from moving any further.

"Ohh!" Moro leaned towards Kurogane's face. "You smell like the skinny one!"

Syaoran squinted. "The skinny one -?"

"Fai." Kurogane sat up on his knees. "Tell me where he is," he demanded.

Maru grinned toothily. "We ate him."

Red tinged the edges of Kurogane's vision as he released his grip on Syaoran and stumbled to his feet. His blade was fully extended from his arm before his was completely standing.

Although the twins had backed a few feet away from him, they were still smiling _and giggling and skipping with Fai's blood still fresh on their tongues._

"This one is easy to tease."

"Almost too easy. He won't be fun."

Their mutual laughter sounded like screaming tearing into the melted atmosphere.

Kurogane regained proper vision.

"Wait," Syaoran began, almost fearfully, "So Fai is alright?"

He let the blade retract back into its steel sheath.

"You mean the skinny one?"

"His name is _Fai_." Kurogane spat.

"You don't call him that!" Syaoran tersely interjected.

"Shut up." He took a long moment to glare at the boy and turned his attention back to the girls.

The two had already begun walking down the alley, hands intertwined. The sound of bare feet against wet rock stopped and Maru turned around to look at Kurogane. With lowered eyelids and a dangerous smile, she quietly said:

"Mommy is waiting."

With Syaoran's arm slung across his shoulders and Mokona tucked under his other elbow, Kurogane began to follow.

* * *

><p><em>Don't touch me. <em>

The ceilings in these underground rooms are low. I can barely stand in them. But now he has me sitting – on a couch, even, and he's offering me

_A drug_

A knife. I take it.

He sits on another couch, directly across from me.

_The wood is ornately carved, with knobs and curves and little wooden angels. The fabric is red red RED like everything else in this igneous world._

He picks up a small teacup, a delicate white china cup, and smiles his broad smile again. He puts it on the

_Mountain range?_

Small table between us.

How cute.

_Kurogane would offer me his wrist like a religious sacrifice. I – unashamed and aiming to wound – would lay my bare, sharp teeth against his skin. I would let the blood cascade down my chin. During the worst of times, mostly in Infinity, I would sometimes bite down HARD on his wrist hoping to hear him complain. He never did. _

"Whenever you're ready." His voice says.

_But his glowing eyes say now._

I position my wrist above the cup before letting the blade bight in. I keep it pressed there because

_My skin would try to weave itself back together if not for the sharp barrier. The skin cells fight a losing battle against the metal, constantly trying to reconstruct themselves around the foreign invader. But this is war and so the stronger is winning._

It would be inconvenient if the wound healed before the cup was full.

He is not watching the blood drip. He is watching my face.

"You are a traveler." He states.

_I shall neither confirm nor deny…_

"Most of us are. I don't really think that anyone would live in M'Alister if they didn't have to."

_The cup is a quarter full…_

"M'Alister?"

A cackle. He really is good at cackling.

He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. Orange light catches his brow and he seems softened in the glow.

_Half of the cup is crimson. My crimson._

"We can spare one room for you. As long as you can provide the daily fee, you may stay as long as you need."

_This world makes no sense._

"We were being chased."

"Well, you were running around at night."

_The pool of blood has arrived at the rim._

"I don't understand the significance of that."

He reaches across and wraps his fingers around the cup. His hands are trembling.

"Later." His eyes become slits, "I believe your family is waiting for you in the room down the hall, on the far left."

My skin has almost completely healed already. But the blood is still gone and the world

_Is like a wet blanket over my ears and eyes_

Is fuzzy and detached. I make my way across the room and barely manage to catch the door handle _like some exotic silver bird._

I stumble down the thin hallway towards that far door. On the left. But walking is so much harder when my ears are tingling, my limbs are iron and

_That headache like a forest fire has returned._

I push the door and fall in. Syaoran, his foot padded in white is staring, and Kurogane's frown is astronomical. Both are seated on futons. I fall onto the unoccupied one.

Kurogane is shaking my shoulder, probably saying something important, but all I can really offer is

"Sleep."

Even he must be able to understand that.


	6. V Entropy

V. Entropy

Kurogane wasn't happy to see Fai stumble into the dark, low room. He was even less pleased when Fai collapsed onto the unoccupied futon with not so much a word.

And he was not quite ecstatic to see Fai's torn clothing, soiled hair and partially healed skinned elbows. Nor was he elated to see nearly fresh bruising on his thin arms and neck.

But Fai was

_Very _

_Much _

_Alive._

So that would have to suffice until the idiot mage was awake again.

Syaoran was staring at the disappearing red line on Fai's wrist.

"Was that how you did it?"

Kurogane looked at the boy and though about lying. But then he really _looked _at Syaoran - looked at the strong chin, the tiny scars dotting his face, the muscles beginning to stand out from beneath his shirt – and realized he was probably looking at a man.

He let a rare chuckle escape, accompanied by flat eyebrows and maniacal eyes.

"Ha ha – no. Do you think that he would ever let it be that easy?"

Maybe Syaoran was smiling.

_A smile white-washed by sadness._

"He was brutal. When I offered, he would take what he wanted. As usual."

_And he made it hurt. Like FUCK._

Kurogane tugged on his right shirt cuff. He turned it to face Syaoran, so he could see the dark scars matting his wrist and forearm.

_Kurogane would sometimes wonder if Fai did it some sort of pattern – if he meant to make the scars twist around his arm like the runes from his missing magic. If it was _

_ART._

Syaoran didn't gasp or look away or grimace. He simply nodded and said

"He probably doesn't regret that, you know?"

Kurogane really laughed.

"The one thing is his life that he doesn't regret."

"One among few."

_And again with the white-washed smiles._

Kurogane let silence fill the cracks in the room.

He put a hand on Syaoran's arm. He figured the head was off-limits at this point.

"Go to sleep."

_Not being dead is so refreshing in the morning. _

Well, perhaps it was morning. Kurogane couldn't tell in the subterranean room.

He sat up slowly, becoming acutely aware of all the places he bruised and cut the day previous. To his right, Syaoran was tangled in blankets, his injured foot protruding from the mess. And Fai

_Fai had probably been awake for hours now. He was sitting cross-legged on a futon to Kurogane's left. All of his skin had healed – he almost looked as perfect and pure as the day they met at Yuuko's shop. He was slumped over, allowing his spine to protrude from his shirt like a little ridge. One bony hand was pressed against his temple, the other lay discarded by his side. And he _

Was smiling.

"Kuro-puu is finally awake."

"…that was some shit you pulled yesterday."

_A hybrid frown-smile._

"Kuro-sama, Syaoran could be listening. You wouldn't want -."

"He's heard worse."

Fai dropped his hand from his head with a soft thud and finally turned to look at Kurogane.

"Maru and Moro told us. Both of us. He wasn't happy, you know."

Fai uttered a soft _soft _sigh.

"And what else was I supposed to do?" Fai slowly climbed over to the edge of Kurogane's futon. "Syaoran was injured, you were -."

_And Kurogane choked the sentence with a primordial growl._

"Incapacitated." Fai continued, and began to inch towards Kurogane.

_We'll see who is incapacitated after this conversation, stupid magic prick._

"We have to take every opportunity we can get, because..." Now he was clutching on to Kurogane's shirt with both hands, nearly digging holes in the fabric with his fingernails.

_This could be very very bad he could be losing it -_

"there is something very wrong with this world." He pulled Kurogane's face closer to his and let all pretense of a smile drop

_Drop _

_Drop_

_Drop_

_like a body from a tower._

"Like what?" Syaoran's gruff morning voice.

Fai dropped his hands down to his knees.

_Truth or innocence?_

"I didn't know you where awake, Syaoran."

He pushed himself up onto his elbows.

"What is wrong with this world?"

"Huh?" Fai tilted his head.

"What, _Mage, _could be more wrong than what we've seen already?" Kurogane spat. Fai scooted back a pinch.

"What could be more wrong than man-eating,

_Kurogane shoved a metal finger in Fai's chest._

demonic,

_He jabbed it hard right above his heart._

starved_,_

_Another poke right in between the ribs._

abused_,_

_And again, closer to the throat._

_CHILDREN?"_

Fai's back hit the wall with a sharp crack as he ejected himself off the futon. Almost as quickly he was standing, wringing his hands as if to choke them off his wrists and pacing the small room in long, frenzied strides.

"The magic here is very wrong."

His breathy voice was flying about the room and ceiling like a trapped bird.

"There is too much of it. It isn't organized."

As he paced, he became less and less _clear, _as if he was blurring around the edges.

_As if he was vibrating in between dimensions. _

"It's all random and everywhere and on fire. It's flying and bouncing around with nobody controlling it as if it was lost or somebody let it go –"

_The air became crystals_

Magic was beginning to circle him in long, ribbon loops glowing a powder purple. The room was growing colder.

"because it can't _escape_ this world can't breathe because it's _closed_ KUROGANE we can't leave because we're stuck here and the magic is stuck here all ready to _explode_ because _burn_'TLEAVEWECAN'TCONTACTANYONE_KUROGANEandITBURNS- "_

SLAM

The door flew open. The ribbons of magic plummeted to the floor _and glowed like dying embers _and three heads swiveled to inspect the figure in the doorway.

Fai flinched in recognition of the imposing stature, the broad jawbone and shoulders, the long dark hair and saturated eyes.

Kurogane had never seen the man before. But by his predatory gaze and annoyed sneer revealing a sharp row of fangs, Kurogane knew precisely who it was.

"What are you doing?" He asked lowly _quietly dangerously._

"Discussing." Kurogane answered swiftly and firmly.

"My customers are sensitive. Discuss quieter."

SLAM

He was gone.

"Fai." Kurogane uttered.

No response.

"Sit." He sat.

_The air melted as cold air always melts._

"So we're stuck here?" Syaoran endeavored to speak. Fai looked down and nodded.

"Why?" Kurogane asked.

"This world is sealed by a very …powerful spell. It's an enchantment that probably took hundreds of years to create and even more magicians to implement."

"And what is with this magic business?"

And now Fai looked up at the dark ceiling.

"Magic is a natural thing, like light or energy. It flows in between worlds and dimensions on its own accord, usually to relieve or create new magical pressure elsewhere. But here, for however long the seal has been in place, the magic has been stuck. It's building up and becoming very dangerous."

Kurogane shifted closer to Fai. "And what does that mean?"

"The magical pressure is like a bomb ready to explode. Even the smallest spell casting could upset it."

"So you can't use magic." Syaoran concluded.

"Right."

"And what happens when it's upset?"

Fai was smiling again. But it was the worst kind caustic, destructive, hateful smile.

"Fire. Everything. All of it. We Burn."


	7. VI That Which is Made of Stone

_Reviews are like cupcakes. I really like cupcakes. _

* * *

><p>VI. That Which is Made of Stone<p>

_The Cage._

The Cage, they had decided to call it. The Cage was glowing and burning and trapping everything inside of M'Alister.

The demon sisters had brought them black black food, looking at it in disdain.

"We tried." The one with purple hair said.

"But we don't eat cooked things." The one with pink hair added.

_And then they twisted their fingers into the dried bloodstains on their dresses._

Fai quickly distributed the plates of steaming something and made like he was eating it so the children would just leave.

_Pillars._

Pillars, Fai had decided to call them. Pillars were those living, breathing, maybe suffering humans that held up the Cage with their magic.

It had tasted a little smokey, but Fai was glad to note that the food they were brought was definitely not cooked human of some variety.

Kurogane was making faces at his plate, but Kurogane was usually making faces.

And Syaoran wanted to know how to dismantle Pillars.

_Do they crumble like limestone towers?_

Mokona hadn't been awake since the night prior. It didn't even respond to Kurogane's graceful food-face-shove. Kurogane made yet another face since that thing _always _responded to food.

And yet again Fai was explaining with that soft soft soft (like he was talking to the dimmest of the thick) smile that Mokona wouldn't be waking up. The air was fire here and Mokona had simply shut down to protect its delicate magic.

"Should you shut down, too?"

"Don't be silly~."

Kurogane stood and yanked the mage up by the arm.

"Let's go get some answers."

Syaoran didn't react as the door swung closed behind Fai.

They padded down a long _scarlet_ hall. Doors lined the sides, the thick type of doors that one is usually hesitant to open. With his sensitive hearing, Kurogane could make out tastes of conversations occurring between the deep wooden barriers.

_"Master Jiro has been a bad customer~."_

_ "Oh yes, very very bad!"_

_THUNK _

_whimper  
>"What will Master Jiro use to pay?"<br>"Does Master Jiro have money?"_

_Gigglegigglegigglegiggle_

"_Of course not!"_

"_Does Master Jiro have blood?"_

"_Don't you see how skinny Master Jiro is?"_

"_So will he pay with the sweetest thing?"_

"_Of Course." _

_GigglegigglechuckleSCREAM_

_THUD THUD THUD_

_CRUNCH_

Fai was aimed for the door at the very end of the hallway. Kurogane lengthened his stride to reach the door first. He ignored Fai's obviously irritated huff and wrenched it open.

It was the same couch and desk and room and dark looming figure bathed in orange blood. _Statue Man, _as Kurogane had begun thinking of him as, was seated, with his stone shoulders leaning and his Grecian face etched into a marble scowl.

His abyssal eyes crunched upwards and settled with a thud on Kurogane.

_A Challenge._

Kurogane strode up to the oak desk, letting his limbs swing wide and making no lack of sounds and bumps. As he let his hands thump heavily on the desk, a thick eyebrow slid upward in annoyance.

_Some nerve…_

"Who are you?" Behind him, Kurogane could imagine Fai cringing at his gruffness.

Maybe he smiled, maybe he grimaced. Sometimes it was hard to tell.

"Shouldn't I be asking that question?"

_I ask the questions you because I'm in a bad mood and you wouldn't even see my sword before it cut your throat in two…_

Kurogane leaned forward even farther and let his hands curl into solid _boulders _fists.

"…Collier."

_Pansy fucking name._

"Kurogane."

Collier rested his head in his slab of a hand as if in annoyance. "You must be from _some_ world to be named something like that."

Kurogane felt a growl grow from the edge of his throat.

"Where are we?"

Collier reciprocated with a grinding chuckle. An _I don't understand what is funny about any of this _cackle.

"You poor bastards have had the incredible luck to land in M'Alister. Specifically Barrington, a nightmare of a capitol city. But I guess it doesn't really matter in M'Alister. Definitely not like the exotic countryside you came from, Kuro…what was it?"

_Good. God. ONE IS ENOUGH._

"GANE. KuroGANE. I don't see why this is so hard."

"Well, KuroGANE, I suppose you have already been informed about my renting policies. Make sure to uphold them or I will be forced to…well."

Collier's hand unclasped in an audible rumble and he titled his head further. "Come. This is not conversation suitable for tea-time. Join me for brunch."

_Barbaric barbarian he's just hungry if Fai even moves I might strangle Statue-prick's barbaric neck…_

"Collier-san is so kind!" Fai was now by Kurogane's side, his hand clasped onto the rough fabric of his sleeve.

"But your adorable twins already fed us! Tell me," he leaned forward conversationally, although his hand was still unalterably attached to Kurogane's shirt, "are they your daughters?"

Kurogane _almost _gave Fai a look. No, he _almost _gave Fai a good smack to the back of his head. But then he read little crescent moon smile on Fai's face and kept silent.

Collier's scowl remained firmly in place, although to Fai's relief it did not deepen.

"Indeed, no. They've _probably _been here longer than I have. Travelers of some sort, most likely. I don't know why they've stayed so small, though. They get plenty of food."

"Is that so?" Fai was doing his best not to look too terribly interested. "And how did they come under your care?"

Collier stood up abruptly. "That is a story for another time. Anyway, I'm not sure what you'll make of M'Alister, but if you don't find something to do with yourselves, you might go insane!" His voice had, perhaps slightly, gone up in pitch. "Make sure you don't go out at night, the patrols don't take too kindly to curfew violations. And you," He looked at Fai for a long minute.

"Fai."

"Fai then. Letting your magic get out of control is a good way to get executed."

Kurogane stared hard at Collier in disbelief – no, in _wanting disbelief_ – and for a fraction of an instant that long hair and that granite smile was so so so similar to that gently-icy smile and those graceful loops of black that perished on Celes even as those slender hands and biting words endeavored to cease Fai's existence.

And it was only by Fai's very living very tight presence clinging to his dark shirt that kept him from grabbing his sword and ripping and tearing and plunging into that murderous torso -

"Collier-san is so perceptive!"

A snort. A fanged snort. "Perceptive? You were flinging it like it was _fairy dust _earlier this morning. Keep it in control. And if you need clothes, I'm pretty sure someone just died not two hours ago in the foyer. You can have anything you find there."

And he left. Probably to the foyer, where the smoke was heavy and twisted memories of humans were lounging on their feeble frames.

"Well…" Kurogane sigh dropped like a pebble in a lake. "What do we do?"

Fai turned and walked briskly out of the room. Kurogane followed, slightly confused and more worried. He kept walking faster and faster because that headache _like lava _was behind his eyes again and soon enough he would probably be all too warm to see _or walk or breathe. _

And finally he tumbled back into their shared room with the low, cavernous ceiling that threatened stalagmites and Syaoran who sat with his eyebrows messily folded and his strong jawline stretched taut.

"And?" He said, maybe a little more biting than he meant. Fai had already sat down on the end of a futon – he didn't really know which one – and was cradling his head like something delicate.

"He didn't really tell us anything we didn't already know."

"Ah. Aha. AHAHAHA!"

_Mental Illness must be a side effect of this country._

Kurogane knelt and grabbed Fai by his shoulders, letting his fingers sink dangerously deep into his skin. The hollow, voiceless laugh caused Fai's thin frame to tremble as if he was taken by some fit or seizing uncontrollably.

Without warning, he stopped. Tears were cutting paths down his cheeks and his face was as crimson as the lights and walls. He lifted both hands, both shaking _quaking _and put them tenderly to either side of Kurogane's face.

"You know what he told me, Kuro-puu? Do you know?"

_A voice mad and high and dangerous and not unlike ice shattering_

"He told me that we are going to become murderers. The grandest kind of murderers."

* * *

><p><em>Thank you for reading so faithfully! If you are interested, I am writing a Companion piece to this story called <span>That Which Does not Heal<span>, featuring everybody's favorite vampire twins. If you find yourself with extra time, please read it and let me know what you think!_


	8. VII From Which a Poison Tree Grows

_Thank you very much for reading. If you are interested, I am also writing a companion piece to Crimson Stars and Distant Skies, entitled That Which Cannot Heal. If you feel obliged, a review would bring me more happiness than a double rainbow. _

* * *

><p>VII. From Which a Poison Tree Grows<p>

It was Syaoran who hit him.

He sat back, his hand pressed to the cheek that was already beginning to swell _like incipient waves_ around his eye.

Fai remembered in one country – was it Rekord? – he had seen a most interesting – did they call it a photograph? Although the image, rendered on a small slip of paper, was in only shades of white, grey and black, it had captured an instance more accurately than any painting he had ever seen. As he lay there, face throbbing and other muscles unresponsive due to shock, the scene in front of him

_Syaoran on his knees with his arms dead pillars at his sides, his mouth stiff and straight and level as the floor, his eyebrows collapsed against his nose and his eyes darkdarkdark tinted like evening glass._

_Kurogane's hands extended in front of him, reaching and twisting still like the old branches of a dead tree vainly grasping for sunlight._

Reminded him _blinded him _of that photograph. Well, any photograph,

Seeing

As

How

STILL

"What is _wrong _with you?" Syaoran. His voice was thunder. "This isn't funny. Nothing was ever funny."

_Syaoran's shoulders were heavy and held up with industrial bolts. _

_Kurogane's branches had wilted limply and his face was wrinkling like wounded tree bark. _

"And murderers?" _The floor yawned; perhaps it was collapsing into an opening sinkhole, _"Ha! HAHA! No. Sakura wouldn't have it."

And then he was wondering how _HOW? _and when Syaoran had crossed across the room with is ankle all drenched in bandages. And since when Syaoran could _would _hit him hard enough to cause his eye to immediately swell shut.

"And how else are we supposed to get out of here, Syaoran-_san? _Do you have some other brilliant plan in mind? Because, on the last occasion that I checked, we're stuck here. Stuck here without Sakura."

Fai was sitting now, one eye covered and the other pulled into a rare frown. Syaoran had knelt, making sure his face was close enough to be intimidating.

"Is that right, _Fai-san? _I hadn't noticed. But of course the solution would be to kill people -."

"Do you think this is easy for me to handle? I haven't read of any other way-."

"Oh, _reading. _Please don't expend too much of your effort on human lives. I wouldn't want you to think that someone else's existence was nearly as important as yours."

"Oh you little…you say this knowing the deaths that your own wish has caused?"

"It's more complicated than that-."

"JUST SHUT UP."

_Does it matter when a tree falls in the middle of a forest?_

"JUST SHUT UP _NOW."_

They had long since shut up.

_It matters when there are people underneath said tree._

And all functional eyes were on Kurogane.

"We can get through a goddamn messed up _future _world without fighting but we can't even handle this stupid basement without an argument? Both of you are like children."

Syaoran flinched. _The closer one is to childhood, the further away one wishes to be. _

"Now, in fucking _words, _mage, why don't you explain yourself?"

Fai dropped the hand from his face, allowing the purple skin to show.

Syaoran flinched again.

"Pillars. The only way to get rid of them is to kill them – of that I'm sure. As a child, Ashura had me do countless years of research on pillars. He was probably…trying…to…help me. All I could ever discover was that, once a world is closed by magic, the only way to reopen is to remove the source of magic."

During Fai's little speech, Kurogane's eyebrows traveled from their usual sloping frown to an awkward line (with his pupils trembling little dots) and then back to an etched V.

"How…many…?"

"Pillars? I won't know until I can analyze the magic. And I can't analyze the magic until one of them is dead."

"Fine." Syaoran's voice was thunder.

"Wha-?" Fai looked at him with one eye.

"But I am not killing them. YOU can kill them, Fai-_san, _if you're so intent on seeing them dead."

"This is the price we will pay to see Sakura-chan again."

"Don't bring her into this."

"Just shut up and get busy killing one of those goddamn pillars."

"We really should work on your cursing, Kuro-puu."

Collier was only somewhat correct. There were actually two dead people in the foyer, barely discernable from their barely living kin. But their loosely fitting, ruffled, Victorian clothing was enough to make the trio look _less _foreign.

"_We can…just have these?" Fai asked a little apprehensively, staring down at the two unmoving piles of limbs. _

"I _don't want their garments." Collier responded, perhaps a little disgusted, although not bothered enough to look up from his paperwork. Fai wondered how much paperwork one who deals opium really needs to do._

"_What should we do with-."_

"_Just leave them there. The girls will enjoy them later."_

"Brat, are you sure you can walk on that foot?"

"It doesn't hurt."

_Fai looked a little drowned in that sheer shirt, even the smallest one they could salvage hung loosely on his shoulders. A deep purple cravat around his neck made the tall lapel stand up a little more correctly. He still looked like he had been starved a touch. Or perhaps been living off opium._

_Kurogane approached him, white bandages in hand._

"_No. It will heal by tomorrow."_

"_Do you want people staring?"_

"_They will stare anyway."_

"_No they won't." Kurogane put his large hands around the mage's head and began all too practiced wrapping._

_Syaoran refused to look as he pulled on a strange blouse over his head. He knew that seeing Fai with white gauze draped all over his head like spider webs would be much too familiar. And, if he was recalling correctly, the last time might have been his fault as well._

"Collier."

"Mmm?"

"Will we be pursued again?"

"Is it nighttime yet?"

"How am I supposed to know?"

"It's not. Just don't do anything stupid."

_Kurogane looked the most natural, in a dark trench coat that covered the rest of his mismatched clothing. He sighed _almost like a breeze _and looked between the idiot mage and the arrogant brat, lost in the continued silence. He realized that, once again, he would probably have to be the adult._

"_Let's go."_

"_Go what?"_Great. A world that turns the idiot mad and the kid snotty.

"_Go find out what we can."_

Fai was the first to ascend up the little stairway. He pushed the trap door up a little, letting a line of light trickle down.

_The snakes in their pit hissed in displeasure._

Collier made an audible grunt of disapproval.

With a great _wave_ shove, Fai through the door fully open and pulled himself up.

"Wow…"

Kurogane quickly followed, although he remained silent. Syaoran was close behind him.

The thin street was littered with people – all sporting dark clothes and dark humored faces – moving about and bumping into one another like too many fish kept in the same bowl. Against the walls were diminutive stalls with diminutive salesmen selling, well, selling perhaps lots of potatoes and perhaps (_perhaps) _little silver fish. The sky was wet and heavy and stifled under a thick woolen blanket of clouds that hung precariously from the rickety tallest of the tall _skeletons _buildings.

"How did the door-?" Syaoran began in awe.

"It's magically concealed," Fai began without looking at the boy, "We can enter in and out of it without disrupting traffic. And we can't be seen until we get a step or two away."

Kurogane was the first to step out; he proceeded to drag the other two with him. Almost immediately they were immersed in the greygreygrey flow of people, causing them to drift slowly amongst the current. No one paid them mind.

"This is…" Kurogane slowly started.

"Depressing?" Fai supplied.

"Boring." Kurogane corrected.

"If it makes this anymore interesting, we're being watched."

"Watched?"

"You didn't notice? As soon as we stepped out, someone has been following us. I wonder why?"

Kurogane whipped his head back (with a little more grace than a drunken bison) and immediately made eye contact with someone more than a few paces back.

_A mess of auburn curls, a planetary face spotted with sepia freckles, an unbecoming grin stuffed with yellow teeth and a thick neck hidden by a navy scarf. Goldgold eyes. _

"He's a little back," he said to Fai, "the one with the red hair."

Fai inclined his head a little and shifted it over his shoulder-

_don't TOUCH me-_

_-right behind me DIRECTLY BEHIND ME glowing hair and tombstone teeth and burnt sunset eyes MUCH TOO CLOSECLOSEENOUGHTOTOUCHME-_

Kurogane _eyes wider than the ocean _growled in alarm and turned around with a knife extended from his mechanical arm.

"Well, well." _His mouth is full of big polished amber stones (are their flies stuck in eternity in there?) _"What a lucky day for me." His voice was heavily robed in accents.

"Which one of you is the magic user?" _oh god oh god how can he tell? _

No answer, save for Kurogane's quick step forward.

"Answer me." _A black plague voice. _

He extended his other arm in front of Syaoran to preemptively shield him.

"No? I guess I'll just have to find out for myself, won't I?"

_He covered up the amber with sloppy red lips. Galaxies of freckles shifted as his nose crinkled in the tiniest hint of effort._

A small, translucent green cube appeared in front of him, hanging as if extended from the sky by string.

With a _feral _smirk the cube grew and extended, encompassing a majority of the street.

"A…kekkai?" Syaoran whispered.

"Now then. Shall we begin?"


	9. VIII The Softest Voice

VIII. The Softest Voice

Touya appreciated a good night's sleep. In fact, he adoreda good night's sleep. And what with all of the country-running and sister-comforting he had been doing lately, he _needed_ a good night sleep.

There was a drought. Well, they were located in the desert, so there always was a drought. More specifically there was a terrible drought. And the lack of water made his normally peaceful people restless and angry. Common opinion had turned their eyes to the more lush lands to the North, and even some of Touya's advisors had suggested conquest in the other countries.

_And then _there was Sakura. It had begun about a week ago, when Sakura had approached him a little apprehensively, holding the black…bunny…thing, and told him that the brat hadn't contacted her in a week. He had waved it off, busy trying to prevent internal strife, but Sakura had probably done the next worse thing to causing a civil war.

She went to Yukito.

Yukito – with his harmless hands, doting smiles and skylark voice – Yukito with secretly the worst temper in Clow.

And so Yukito stormed back into the throne room, making sure (Touya wasn't sure how he did it, those doors were huge and Yukito was – well – not) to slam the doors open with an authoritative _BOOM! _and say, in a low low low voice, "Your Majesty."

"Yukito, I told you not to call-."

"Your _Highness, _then."

And then Touya knew he was in trouble.

A good scolding (and threatening) later and Touya was across the room, hands on Yukito's shoulders, holding the boy against his quakes of anger and saying quietly, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'll apologize to her, I promise."

He said he would and he did, and then he (very nicely, he minded to tell Yukito later) asked her what was wrong. She had somewhat tearfully held the strange black animal up to his face and told him that she was worried about the twerp. "I haven't heard from him in a week. He usually tries to talk to me every day (sniffle). What if he's in trouble?"

He had dismissed her with the promise of looking into it, and later (very late, he might add) he had gone to search for the High Priest of Clow. He had found Yukito in the library, surrounded by a hurricane of papers and Black Mokona at its eye.

He was maybe _not that I would admit it _a little nervous. Yukito was leaning on the table (in a very un-priestly manner), head in one hand, round gold glasses in the other, peering down at some foreign old tome, and still was completely oblivious to Touya's presence.

Touya coughed lightly and shuffled forward. Yukito swung his head around, as if jostled awake, and found Touya leaning against the bookcase. He smiled lightly and said, "Your Majesty."

"Yukito, please."

"What is it, Touya?"

"Have you…found anything?"

Yukito pinched his eyebrows together.

"Well, yes and no."

"Are they okay?"

"All Mokona was able to tell me is that his counterpart is sleeping."

"Sleeping, not-."

"No!" The black lump interrupted, "Mokona would know if Mokona was dead."

"Wherever they are," Yukito continued, running a hand through his grey tufts of hair, "it would take a lot of power to reach them."

Touya noted the droop in the Priest's shoulders and the darkness rimming his eyes and remembered that Yukito was probably working as hard as he was, scouring both physically and mentally for a solution to the water shortage. And now, he figured, they had another issue to add to their long list of issues and could both use some rest.

"Go to bed, Yukito. It can wait till morning." Yukito nodded shyly and stood. With what seemed like a passing breeze he had left, presumably to his retire to his chambers. Touya was quick to do the same, because he could really _really _appreciate a good night's sleep.

* * *

><p><em>You look around you, shocked at seeing the glowing cube expanding and eating the dead world and making it your own and your enemies.<em>

_Although he didn't initially remind you of Him, now he can't but help it – there has only been one other person trapped in a green cube of death with you before, anyway. Maybe there was something familiar in his condescending smile, something that was similar to _His_ condescending smile and mismatched eyes. _

_You stand there, both awestruck and a little afraid, because the last time you were in the green cube of death, you had your sword out ready to kill or to be killed._

_But it was neither you nor He who died in a shower of Sakura petals._

_But now you have no sword and it is Fai and Kurogane who are jumping around the cube, smashing into wayward buildings, clashing into steel threads of magic and slashing them with such speed that their weapons look like _

_Little_

_Falling_

_Stars. _

_The bandage has fallen from Fai's face and you can see that his eye has already healed. You didn't know that it could still do that. _

_It's all very odd because this is the first time you have soon Kurogane and Fai fight with the same lustful smile on their face. _

* * *

><p>But of course, there was something – <em>there was always something – <em>interrupting his blissful sleep. Outside his doors, there was banging and scraping as if someone was arranging a meeting in the hall. It was too late to have any comprehension or logic (for example, the fact that he was the King and could order them to stop making sound evaded him) so all he could do was groan and roll over. He pulled the covers over his head and hoped that whatever _god awful _thing making sound outside his door would just _go away._

But of course it didn't. In fact, the noises only seemed to grow in the darkness, until finally he heard a loud rapping at his door.

"Nii-san! nii-san! Wake up, Nii-san! There is something wrong with Yukito-san!"

And that got him up quickly.

Sakura was standing in front of his double doors, clothed in night robes, looking more than a little jarred. With a trembling hand she pointed out, towards the great hall, towards –

Yukito at the center of a hurricane, at the center of the clumsily drawn runes on the floor, as large as the space would allow. With only loose pants clothing him, he seemed almost carved out of pale marble and lit by the glowing strands of golden magic whipping around him and tearing at his hair. He held his staff in both hands, elevated above his head. He was muttering louder, faster, the artificial wind and the very real magic caused the furniture in the room to become airborne.

"Yukito!" Touya ran forward, dodging flying armchairs and tables. The boy seemed not to hear him and continued on with his chanting.

"What's wrong, Yukito!"

Yukito's arms began to shake, a bead of sweat dripped from his forehead. The magic – his gold magic – became an almost solid sphere around him, glowing and dripping around him as his voice grew stronger and louder – strong and full in an old, forgotten language – his glasses flew off of his face – the air grew warmer and warmer and like _sickness _and now his skin is turning whiter _whiter _and his voice louder and louder until he is screaming _SCREAMING_ and his staff is glowing and he is glowing and –

"YUKITO!" Touya has one hand on Yukito's forearm and it feels like _fire._

With a sudden gasp, Yukito drops both of his arms and the end of his staff slams onto the floor with a sharp clang.

The wind stops. The Magic stops. Yukito is quiet and he opens his eyes.

He barely motions his staff to the left.

A hole tears open in the air above him.

* * *

><p><em>Fai and Kurogane complement each other. You've known this for as long as you've known them, but you have never really paid attention. Even if Fai lacks magic, and Kurogane an arm, they still move across the battlefield like the sunlight and shadow underneath a tree. <em>

_Fai is agile – they are both agile – but Fai can _fly – _almost like his feet never hit the ground. He usually fights with a smile, that fake little smile that he hangs from his cheeks like a sign on a door. _

_Kurogane is powerful – they are both powerful – but Kurogane can _kill _– his sword does not look like a sword, but an earthquake. He usually fights with a smile, a hungry excited smile that rips across his face like a wound. _

_But now they are a little different. Kurogane isn't smiling. _

_Fai is smiling. He is showing his teeth. He is angry and confused and for some reason the smile on his face looks much more like a threat. _

_You want to tell somebody, maybe Kurogane, because he just doesn't look right. But you can't really go anywhere because of that injured leg and you don't want to touch the red-haired opponent because that would make Sakura sad._

_So, instead, you divert your attention to _the other man inside the kekkai?

_You hadn't seen him yet, and you are sure that the other two haven't as well. He seems to be running straight in your direction. He could be – no – you can't believe it – _

_He looked a bit scruffier than you've seen him, of course, and a bit more irritated (if that's even possible, you wonder), but that stern brown and steady jawline cannot be mistaken. _

"_Touya-san!" you call, and he looks up. _

_But he isn't looking at you. He is looking at the red-haired mage, impaled on Fai's sword. Now you are looking at him too. _

_And Fai shouldn't be smiling like that, almost goading and snarling down at the troublesome dead mage like he was just vermin to begin with. _

_You watch Kurogane watching Fai, expecting a response. You don't get one from him. _

"_What the hell?" The mage slips off of Fai's sword and everyone is looking at this Touya._

"_Who are you and what are you doing here?"_

"_Touya-san! What are you -."_

"_I thought I asked you a question, brat."_

_Kurogane steps forward, like he usually does. "You looking for trouble, boy?"_

_Touya sneers, almost identical to his counterpart in Clow, and says, "I'm the one looking for trouble? YOU are the one who took my…prey. And in such a public place? What were you thinking?"_

_Kurogane growls a response, "What do you mean, prey?"_

"_I mean what I mean. Are you planning on finishing him?"_

"_What?"_

"_Does he look dead to you? Unless you weren't planning on killing him. In which case, draw your sword. I won't let you leave here alive."_

"_Why you little -."_

"Stop."

All heads – save for the injured assailant – turned towards the voice. In what seemed like a tear in the sky – a window to a very different place –

"Yukito-san." Syaoran called, looking at the mage through the tear. A window to Clow, he figures. "How are you…what…?"

"This connection is very taxing, so I don't have much time to speak you with." Yukito's voice was very soft, and almost strangled, "It was hard enough getting through to here in the first place, so please just listen."

"I have had a troubling dream. Syaoran, this is very important. You musN'T-." Yukito's voice broke off with a strangled gasp. He clutched at his neck and his eyes grew large. Very faintly, from somewhere outside his vision, Syaoran heard a faint "Yukito!"

"You – mustn't-." he continued, his voice broken and raspy, "kill her. The princess-," blood was visibly running out from his mouth and down his chin, "she will…die. Don't…kill…they'll all die-." And the tear was gone.

* * *

><p><em>Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Let me know what you think in the comments.<em>

_Much Love,_

_Elegy_


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